


More Precious than Diamonds

by janto321 (FaceofMer), TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Agent!Greg, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, BAMF Greg Lestrade, Handler!Mycroft, Kidnapping, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sappy idiots in love, Spies & Secret Agents, Tiny bit of Angst, happy end (of course), shameless flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy/pseuds/TheUniverseIsRarelySoLazy
Summary: Agent Greg has had the worst crush on his handler Mycroft... for years. The only problem is that Mycroft adheres to agency rules: No dating allowed. Then something bad happens to him and everything is turned upside down. Rules were meant to be broken.





	More Precious than Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

> My first RP together with janto321! Thank you very much for getting me out of my writing slump. This was a lot of fun <3

Greg pressed his back to the wall. The white tiles felt cold through the flimsy t-shirt he was wearing. There had been no time to grab his jacket as the alarm on the wristwatch had sounded and ripped him from his uneasy sleep. Someone had moved the package. Finally. After two days of waiting he had been eager to bring the operation to a successful conclusion. But for that he had to intercept the courier. There were two people, a man and a woman, talking behind the corner. Their voices were low and they seemed to be fighting about something. Greg once more pressed the button on his watch to open communications. He knew it was the middle of the night in the UK, but where the hell was his handler?

“Now would be a really good time to respond…” he whispered.

“I’m here,” said Mycroft quietly, standing in his kitchen and fixing tea with one hand while reading over the case files. “Status?”

“Barely within the official response time. I have half a mind to report you,” Greg quipped. He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, on which he could track the package should he lose sight of the courier. They still weren’t moving, but he couldn’t just jump out there without knowing more about their possible equipment. “The package is about to be moved. Do you have eyes on the room?”

“I do now,” Mycroft looked at his mobile. “And in my defense it is three in the morning. They never do this sort of thing at a reasonable hour.”

“Are you still in bed?” Greg asked with a smile. He heard Mycroft’s annoyed huff.

“Not now, no.” Mycroft sipped his tea. “The package is presently alone, though the door is open.”

“Too bad. I like the thought of you in bed.”

Greg went through the layout of the building in his head. There were two doors into the room. The package was small and easily concealed, so they could leave either way. Would it be better to surprise them now or to corner them later? No matter. He would be in and out before they knew what hit them.

“There’s traffic on Sebastian Way, I’d recommend taking Northland to leave,” said Mycroft, decidedly trying not to think of Greg in bed at that last comment.

Mycroft usually avoided Greg’s comments, so he wasn’t at all deterred. In fact it was kind of fun to try and figure out what to say to make his handler sputter. It didn’t happen all that often, but when it did, it was very much worth it. After a few more moments he heard movement. The others had entered the room.

“I’m going in,” Greg said and looked up to the camera in the corridor to wink.

Mycroft absolutely did not admire the way that shirt clung to Greg. His agent moved fast, effectively and expertly. He incapacitated the two and retrieved the package, darting for the street. 

“I’ve got their communications device… with this we can track the others down. And the diamonds. Mission successful, I’d say,” Greg said as he climbed up the stairs of the building on the opposite side of the street to retrieve the few things he had brought with him.

“Indeed, we’ll have you home… get down,” hissed Mycroft, catching something on his screen.

“Shit, they had company!” Greg shouted and dropped to the floor at Mycroft’s words, trusting him entirely to make the right call. Not seconds later the window above him shattered. He groaned as the shards rained down on him, his arms over his head to protect it.

“Head south three blocks,” said Mycroft, pacing his kitchen and watching worriedly.

“Through the street? Bad idea,” Greg said and shook the glass off his clothes. “Over the roof, maybe. Three blocks south… oh, Mycroft, you bastard, that might just work. I’m getting you a ring made from these diamonds.”

Greg crawled out through the door, and then ran to the stairs that led up to the roof. It would mean a few tight jumps, but he could just make it… onto the platform of the monorail that ran through the city. He couldn’t get away on the street, but public transport could get him out fast.

Mycroft watched him run, silently urging him on, prepared to call for backup.

“So what do I get if make all of these jumps?” Greg asked as he lined up to attempt the first to the adjacent building. “That kiss you promised me three years ago if I didn’t die in that pool house in Barcelona? For the record: I didn’t die.”

“Get out of there safely and we can negotiate,” said Mycroft.

“Give a man a break,” Greg huffed after he landed on a metal roof, making a whole lot of unwanted noise. There was almost no cover up here. He had to go on. Fast. It was only a matter of time before they realised he had left this way. “Give me something to look forward to.”

“Take the building to your right, and then the fire escape. Fine, land in London in one piece and I’ll bestow a kiss.”

“You won’t,” Greg said and his voice cracked a little. “But thank you anyway.”

Greg followed Mycroft’s instructions and landed right in front of the monorail entrance. He jumped over the barrier and ran towards the train faster than any guard could catch up to him. Two seconds before the door closed he stumbled into a carriage and flung himself in a seat. Only then he allowed himself a big breath.

Mycroft slumped against his kitchen counter, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “You’re unhurt?” he asked with more confidence than he felt

“Twisted my ankle a bit when I jumped into the train, of all places,” Greg answered under his breath, as if not enough people were staring at him already in his torn, slightly bloody shirt and abrasions on his arms. “Some glass cuts. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me. I’ll be out of here on the next plane.”

“I’ll be here when you land. Let me know if you need anything further.”

Yeah, you will be, Greg thought. For the debriefing. You’ll glance at me for an hour, then disappear again. He put his fingers on the earpiece that connected him to his handler, who had been at his side for almost every mission for over five years now. Five years of merciless flirting and not even one positive response. Sometimes Greg wondered if it was even worth it, but then he sat in yet another debriefing and couldn’t find his words while he stared in Mycroft’s eyes and he knew he was still gone on this man. He sighed. Nothing to do but get back home now.

Mycroft scrubbed his face in his hands. He knew Greg was attracted to him. And, if he were honest, he was rather attracted to him too. But workplace rules were there for a reason, and if things went bad between them it would only make the work harder. But at the same time he didn’t want anyone else to handle Greg but himself. He already feared for the day when Greg didn’t respond, what would happen if they were a couple when that happened?

“Hey, you still there?” Greg whispered as he exited the train. “Thank you for keeping me company during those last two days. Really, I mean it. I know small talk is not in the job description, but I would’ve gone crazy without anyone to talk to. Waiting around is not my strong point.”

Mycroft was just getting settled back in bed. “I know, and it’s fine.” Mycroft smiled softly. “I’m glad to be here for you.”

“I’ll be a good friend and let you sleep now. I seem to have lost them. HQ will send you my flight info, as always,” Greg said and looked into the setting sun. “Good night. Get your beauty sleep… not that you need it.”

Mycroft chuckled softly. “I’m in bed now. Rest yourself.”

“Bet you sleep naked. Wish I could be there with you. And yes, I do know these conversations are all recorded. That doesn’t make it less true. Probably giving the poor person who has to review them a heart attack every time.”

“We can see about getting them a raise. And no, I’m in my pajamas. It’s a bit chilly.”

“Sure, you can try that. Reason for the raise: Having to listen to agent Greg Lestrade’s pitiful attempts at flirting.”

“Not pitiful at all.” Mycroft sighed and rubbed his temples. “We work together, and have to be able to continue to work together.” An odd creak caught his attention and he sat up, wondering if he was hearing things.

“You know I would quit my job in a heartbeat if you’d have me. I’m getting too old for these excursions anyway…”

“Would you?” asked Mycroft, frown deepening as he threw the covers back.

“You know what? I would,” Greg said with resolve in his voice. He hadn’t known himself until he voiced it, but now it felt right. He was getting too old for this, that was true. With every year his chances to die in the field were only rising. “I would. Think about it.”

“I..” Mycroft was cut off as his door slammed open. He reached for the gun behind his headboard only to be hit by a taser. He fell to the floor, cursing and a moment later something pricked his skin and the world went dark.

“Mycroft? Mycroft!” Greg shouted, not caring that the other people in the street were turning their heads towards him. “Answer me! Shit!” he changed the channel to HQ. “Send someone to Mycroft’s house. Something’s wrong.”

Greg’s heart was beating so fast it threatened to jump out of his chest. He stood lost, on a street thousands of miles away from England, staring at his hands, which clenched uselessly. Something had happened. Something horrible. He knew it. He knew it and he could do nothing.

**

Mycroft woke slowly, finding his wrists bound tightly behind him. He kept his eyes closed, trying to figure out his surroundings without letting anyone know he was awake. Greg would have let someone know he’d been taken, so there was that, at least. A quicker response than him simply not showing up at the office.

“I see you move. There’s no need to pretend,” a female voice said into the silence of the cold air.

Mycroft opened his eyes and recognized the woman. “Ah, Valentina. Were we getting too close?”

“Close, yes. Not too close, though. You’re still addressing me by my alias. Still, I’d rather get this nuisance out of the way sooner than later. You’ll help me with that, Mycroft Holmes,” she said with a grin that could’ve fitted onto a shark.

“All you’re going to do is get yourself caught faster.”

“Maybe it’s the attention I want,” Valentina said and leaned forward in her chair, her black hair falling around her shoulders. “At least the attention of a single agent, who has been wreaking far too much havoc in our ranks. And now we have the one thing in our grasp that he’s sure to run after, no matter what. He’ll be blind with worry. Absolutely blind.”

Mycroft didn’t have to be a genius to put two and two together. “He’s not an idiot. And he won’t come alone.”

“Oh, he will. We sent him a personal message, telling him that he has to come alone, otherwise his precious handler’s life will be over. And don’t even try to tell me that it won’t work. He was so sweet, even willing to quit his job for you…”

“You won’t win.” Mycroft glared at her.

“You have to say that, don’t you? To make you feel better. What if I told you that he already contacted us? Told us that he’s indeed coming alone.”

“We’ll still beat you.”

“Bless your blind optimism,” Valentina said with a laugh and stood up. She grabbed a cloth bag and pulled it over Mycroft’s head, where he was tied to a chair in the corner, then leaned down to place her mouth next to his ear. “He will come alone. No doubt. And then we’ll get him and the diamonds he stole from us. The money is ours and we need it yesterday. You mean nothing to me beyond that, and no matter how pretty you are, I will end you if this doesn’t go to plan. Still… I’m not completely heartless. There’s one way you can save your life on your own.”

“And that is?” Mycroft’s heart beat in his ears. 

“You’re Lestrade’s handler. You know the mission and all its details intimately. Sure, we want him, but if you tell us exactly how close your organisation is to mine, I’ll let you go. Spill the secrets if you want to live.”

Mycroft shook his head. He’d be a dead man either way if he spoke. “No.”

“Didn’t think it would be that easy. No matter. You have an hour to think about it. I have ways to make you talk if you decide against it. Let’s see if you’re still in one piece before your knight appears.”

Valentina kicked the chair once for good measure and left the room, but not before turning on the freezer. 

“Let’s see how long you hold out in this cold.”

Mycroft shivered, aware he was still in his pyjamas. But he’d hold out, he had to. He settled in , clenching his fists, silently praying, more for Greg than himself.

**

“Are you fucking kidding me, Anthea? What do you mean I can’t be part of the rescue team? I should be the only one on it! They’re going to kill him if I don’t go alone!” Greg shouted and slammed his fists on the long table, making several members of the crisis team jump.

“You are obviously too close to this case already,” she said cooly.

“Case? Mycroft is not a case!” Greg said through clenched teeth. “He’s the best handler I ever had and I know you feel the same. I need to make sure nothing happens to him, and I can’t do that from here!”

“He is a case now until he’s safely retrieved. Which you are interfering with.”

“There will be no safely if I’m not on the team. You’ve read their message! I demand to be the leading agent on the rescue team!” Greg said and crossed his arms.

“Or what, Lestrade?”

Greg drew in a deep breath. Now was the time to make good on his promise. A life without Mycroft would be no life at all.

“Or I quit.”

“Going rogue on us?” Anthea asked, eyebrow raised, a couple of her men moving automatically to take Greg into custody on a small gesture from her.

Greg put both hands over his face. “Sorry, boss. You’re right. This is too much for me. I’m no longer impartial. Just let me go home.”

“Harris will escort you home.”

Greg exchanged a glance with the man called Harris. He had been an agent for even longer than Greg himself. He was fiercely loyal to Anthea, but also one of Greg’s oldest friends. What was her game here?

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Harris walked him out the door and around the corner. “I’m just going to step into this alley for a minute and turn away from you, I think I heard something,” he said slowly as he turned.

Greg was too surprised to act immediately. He looked up and down the street, but there was no one else. Then he huffed a short laugh.

“Tell Anthea thank you, but I’m still quitting. This is a personal action… it shouldn’t reflect badly on the agency.”

“I hear nothing, in fact, I’m taking another step down this alley.”

Greg shook his head and took the offered chance. He darted away through the shadows and fumbled for his mobile. ‘Valentina’ – or as he knew now: Irene Adler – had texted him her number should he decide to play her game. He texted her back, not trusting his voice to be steady enough for a conversation.

[I’ll come alone. Send me the location and time.]

Not five minutes later he received the address of a building in Canary Wharf. A warehouse, if his map app was to be trusted. Greg sighed. His bike was stashed nearby, for emergencies. Not even the agency knew about it. Not that he was inherently paranoid, but it always good to have a few aces up your sleeve. As a spy you had to master the art of subterfuge. He hoped that Anthea wouldn’t get much shit for his decision, but he could always claim he had hit Harris over the head and escaped on his own… He knew for a fact that the rescue mission wouldn’t start for a few hours yet – and he had to make those hours count.

Greg left his bike in an alley two blocks away from the address. What were his options here? He didn’t have the diamonds (those had been confiscated by the agency) but he had himself. Agent Lestrade, who had single-handedly taken out many lackeys of the criminal organisation Irene Adler was the head of. If it came to that, he could always trade himself for Mycroft. Try to talk to Irene. He swallowed. Best to find another option.

With his gun in hand he approached the building as quietly as he could.

**

Mycroft heard when Valentina stepped back into the room. He braced himself, listening to her walk around the room.

“He’ll be here soon,” she finally said, from behind him. In the distance there was a gunshot and Mycroft shivered, though not from the cold.

“I had hoped he would come quietly, but apparently he’s having a different idea. No matter. As long as I have you...” Valentina said and put a hand around Mycroft’s throat from behind, squeezed once for good measure. “...I will still get what I want. The people here are disposable.”

Mycroft threw his weight back, trying to knock her over.

Valentina had expected many things, but being headbutted by a half-frozen, tied up, tired desk jockey wasn’t one of them. In shock she tried to grab whatever was closest to her, which happened the be the cloth hood above Mycroft’s head. Two seconds later, both of them were on the floor, chair crashing right into her body, punching the air out of her lungs. In that moment the door flew open.

Mycroft rocked to the side, leaving Valentina exposed. His body ached but he trusted that Greg would resolve the issue at hand and get him untied and warm.

Greg closed the door behind him despite the horrible cold, turned the lock to prevent anyone from surprising him. As he heard a noise he went around the table and saw two figures on the ground. One in a suit, long black hair in a ponytail, not entirely unconscious, but groaning with closed eyes. The other was clad in deep blue nightclothes, a dark sack over his head. He recognised Mycroft immediately, but he had to take care of Irene first and secured her hands with a pair of cuffs behind her back. Then he cut through the rope that had held Mycroft and took the cover from his head.

“Moomin pyjamas? Really?” he asked as he pressed the shivering man to his chest.

“They’re comfortable,” he murmured through chattering teeth. “You’re unhurt?”

“Nothing that a little rest couldn’t fix…” Greg said softly and took his jacket off to drape it around Mycroft’s shoulders. He inspected his face for damage, but beyond a few scratches and the red skin he couldn’t find anything immediate. “Not that you should be asking that. Stay here for a moment while I make sure the coast is clear.”

Greg looked at Mycroft, who stared at him like he’d disappear at any second. And then couldn’t help it. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, lips hot against Mycroft’s chilled skin.

“I was so worried about you, darling,” he whispered, then turned around to the door. Better make sure no one out there is alive. He’d call HQ as soon as they’re out of there, so they can take Irene into custody.

“She w..wanted to use me to get to you. Wasn’t gonna let that happen.” Mycroft was suddenly very tired and sagged in Greg’s arms.

“Oh darling,” Greg said and drew Mycroft closer. “I’m so sorry. Here, you better sit on the table than on the floor while I make sure the way is clear. I’ll be right back.”

Greg made sure Mycroft was settled and turned to walk to the door, but then he looked back at the man he had almost lost. He walked back and took Mycroft’s face in both hands, tilted his face up. Their lips almost touched, but then Greg hesitated.

“May I?” he asked.

Mycroft leaned forward and closed the gap himself, wrapping his stiff arms around Greg and holding him close.

Greg sighed as Mycroft took the initiative, kissing him softly, just enjoying the contact, eyes closed. With one hand he caressed the skin of Mycroft’s cheek, brushing over the cold skin to warm it up. In the back of his mind he knew they had to get away, but he couldn’t tear himself away.

Anthea cleared her throat, an amused smile on her face. “Does he need medical attention?”

Greg smiled against Mycroft’s mouth, not moving away, and he felt the other smile in return. He nuzzled his nose against against Mycroft’s, then turned around to Anthea.

“That would be wise, yes. And then I’m taking him home.”

“Of course. There’s a car waiting for you two. We’ll take the rest of it from here.” Anthea handed Mycroft a pair of slippers before walking over and hauling Irene to her feet.

Mycroft got them on and leaned on Greg as they made their way out. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Anything. I’ve told you for years. Anything for you,” Greg replied and drew Mycroft into his arms, sweeping him off his feet to carry him. His slender body was still shivering. “No, don’t protest. I’m bringing you to the car.”

He could hear Anthea laugh in the background.

Mycroft grumbled but tucked his head against Greg’s neck, pulling the coat closer around him.

**

They actually managed to get in and out of the hospital in almost record time. He had a bit of hypothermia, but as he was up and talking they let him go home.

He was glad to see his house again, noticing that repairs had been done already to where they’d broken in. “I know you came straight from the airport, come upstairs with me.”

“I would love to, but I don’t want to take advantage…” Greg said, as held one of Mycroft’s hands. “I mean… I’ve thought about this. Often. But…” Greg trailed off. Mycroft had just been through something pretty traumatic. “I still want to be here for you, darling. Whatever you need.”

“Lay with me, please?” Mycroft said softly, letting exhaustion seep into his tone.

“Of course,” Greg said and kissed Mycroft’s hand. The other man looked completely off-guard, and so tired as if he would fall into Greg’s arms at any second. Greg’s heart hurt as his love overtook him in a rush, more powerful than he had ever thought. “Of course, if you want that. Show me the way.”

“I want nothing more than to lay in your arms for the rest of our lives,” murmured Mycroft, leading him upstairs to his bedroom.

Greg swallowed. “I know I’ve been pushing for years, but you never gave any indication that you… felt the same way.”

“I couldn’t Gregory, if I did then I couldn’t be your handler. And I trusted no one else.”

“You only ever called me Gregory when I didn’t listen to your advice,” Greg said with a smile. “Am I in trouble now?”

“Not if you lay down here with me and help me sleep” Mycroft kicked off the slippers and climbed into bed, scooting over to give Greg room.

Greg smiled to himself. He carefully put away his weapon, then removed his shoes, socks and trousers. With only his shirt and underwear he slipped into bed next to Mycroft, who was warmer now that he had been, but still cold. Giving in to everything he had ever wanted to do he reached for the other and molded their bodies together, face buried in Mycroft’s shoulder.

“I know you couldn’t. I was horrible to push you, I know. But I couldn’t help it. I… I’ve loved you for years, Mycroft. Your voice in my ear was the only thing that kept me going, time and time again. But now that won’t happen anymore. I’ve quit.”

“I assumed when you showed up alone.” Mycroft kissed the top his head. “I love you too, Greg. I broke my own heart every time I rebuffed your advances. I could retire, actually. We could leave London for a while, if you wanted.”

“Yes. A thousand times yes. I’m done with all of this. I can’t risk you again. I can’t risk myself again. You were so close, all this time, but only now I feel like I’m finally, truly with you.”

Mycroft tilted his chin up and kissed him gently. “You’ll never be without me again.”

Greg felt like crying. He kissed Mycroft back, desperately clinging to the other man. Only after they parted he shook his head and huffed a short laugh. “To think that it would take only a kidnapping to get us this far. I should’ve let you get abducted years ago.”

Mycroft had tears shining in his own eyes. “Maybe we should send Ms. Adler a wedding invitation.”

“Thought I’d just fly you out to Vegas tomorrow. Be done with it,” Greg said and grinned. “I’ve wanted to change my last name anyway. Funny how these things work out.”

“Why fly to Vegas? I can get a minister here by morning.”

“Of course you can. You’re the capable one in this relationship. I’m the one who just does as he’s told… most of the time.”

“And I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Mycroft kissed him again. “Sleep, Gregory. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“Capable and smart,” Greg said and held Mycroft as close as he could.


End file.
